


Be Unbroken.

by BonniePig



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-16 23:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13646958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonniePig/pseuds/BonniePig
Summary: What if William never snapped and murdered anyone?What if Henry learned from his mistakes before it was too late?...Probably not this, actually. But it's fun to speculate anyway!(A/U. Don't care. Enjoy!)





	1. Crux

                  William's pulse drummed in his ears, a cacophonous blend of anger and... fear. It was that latter one, actually, that left the sour taste in his mouth, and he hadn't even said a word. _Pathetic_ , he thought, but he couldn't shake the truth; he knew himself better than that, and better still, he knew Henry.

                  The last time he brought it up had ended disastrously; he winced, still vividly remembering how pain had ricocheted down his spine when Henry knocked him so forcefully into that shelf of mechanical bits and baubles: the knee-jerk reaction to a spontaneous kiss. In hindsight, William realized that chancing a snog in the middle of a tension-fueled shouting match probably hadn't been one of his better ideas, but he couldn't regret or deny the truth of his feelings. There was just no mistaking it. Total, unequivocal, damnable _love_ was at play, and this new period of listless melancholy served as irrefutable evidence. 

                  _I'm such a fool..._ he thought sullenly, gazing emptily at the cigarette that now threatened to burn his fingertips, but he didn't flick it away; not until he had to in order to wipe away the tears that stung the corners of his eyes. Everything he'd fought so hard to bury, to lock away and move on from, had somehow opened a pit that now threatened to swallow him whole. His wife, his children... His _family_ , all for nothing. All his efforts to subvert his nature, wasted. And all because one man, with his happy-go-lucky attitude and zeal for life, had waltzed in and upended everything. Henry. **_Fucking_** _Henry_ , he thought bitterly, even contemptuously, and well... Well, there really was no notion more poignant than that. He knew it was a mistake, but he just couldn't stop himself; his simmering rage and anxiety boiled immediately over into lust as he imagined it: the rough, calloused fingers combing through his hair, gripping the back of his neck... The deep sound of ragged breaths, hitching in the other man's chest... The heady scent of fire, metal, plastics and paint that seemed to permeate every inch of his partner's personal space...

                  William sighed, defeated _. No sense in trying to stop it now_. After a cautious glance at the door to ensure he'd locked it, he closed his eyes and sank back in his chair. Nimble fingers had already freed his erection before it could strain against his clothes, and though he felt undeniable shame at fantasizing about a man who clearly wanted nothing to do with him, the growing pulses of arousal from his languid strokes soon drowned out such unpleasantness. Up toward his belly and down again, his fingertips followed the shaft's subtle curve, tugging skin and teasing the tip until heavy droplets of pre-cum dripped steadily over his hand; as the tempo and ferocity of his hold increased, so did the depth of his breath, escaping in strained little puffs through parted lips. Silver eyes, though half-lidded, saw what he wished them to see: Henry stood before him, his skin tanned by the Southern sun and faintly scarred from years of working with the sharp, smoldering guts of various machines; a faint, blondish layer of downy hair shone in the dim light like a halo around his arms and torso. Oh, how _badly_ he wanted to taste this mocking phantom's salty skin... to suckle the nipples, brown and small, until they pressed like smooth pebbles against his tongue. To trail sharp nibbles down the stony abdomen, kiss the faintly dipping navel, tease the strong pelvic lines until the man's cocky grin gave way to deep, sultry, mewling moans of need. And very happily would he answer the call of that desire, taking Henry's hips in his hands and cock into his mouth, sucking with every ounce of might and prowess he could muster, until not a single speck of it remained unstimulated or unexplored by his lips, tongue, and gently grazing teeth; until burst after burst of warm semen glooped down his throat like the sweetest honey; until Henry, shuddering with heat and damp with sweat, gave up every single drop of passion his body could possibly offer.

                  William's head swam as he exploded with ecstasy right alongside his vision; thick ropes of cum splashed upon his hand and chest, a few droplets even making it up to his cheek, but he was too consumed by his fantasy to care, too lost in its afterglow. And even after his head cleared, the initial pulsing finally gone, he frowned to find his heart even more conflicted than before. "I can't keep this up," he groaned quietly to himself; "I can't live this way." It was as if his very _soul_ ached, awash with a level of pain and desperation that threatened to crush him beneath itself and drive him well beyond the breaking point of insanity. Henry didn't love him, and he knew it irrefutably; over and over again, he'd told himself that it simply wasn't in the man's nature, not _that_ way, not the way he _needed_ it to be, and William knew that there was nothing he could do about it... But equally powerless was he in the face of his _own_ feelings, and something had to give.

                  For both of them, one way or another, it had to end.


	2. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All emotion, no smut; skip to 3.   
> (Henry, in my mind, is from Georgia. Maybe Mississippi? I don't know why.)

                  Shiny screws, rusted nuts, interlaced gears and tangled wires; pointy pins, misshapen bolts, and enough circuit boards to generously pave a driveway: a hazardous maze of electric shocks and bandaged fingers for any normal person, but armed only with one screwdriver and several hand-drawn schematics, Henry could turn a sordid mess of discarded parts into a glimmering, hidden treasure. His newest masterpiece-in-progress, a great burgundy fox with a devious grin, was nevertheless giving him massive fits; despite his best efforts, the damn thing just wouldn't stop twitching and making grinding noises during test runs, and he'd already spent several hours that morning attempting to suss out the root of the problem. To say that it was starting to grate on his nerves was a massive understatement, and it was from beneath a suitably furrowed brow that blue-jade eyes snapped up at the sight and sound of his workshop door suddenly springing open with a bang.

                  "Ooh! What's this one, Uncle Henry?" exclaimed the excited little black-haired boy as he peered up over the edge of the table, and Henry's expression immediately softened. Typically, he didn't approve of the children seeing all the guts and such of the animatronics; he imagined it tended to ruin some of the magic for them, but his partner's son had always been a curious devil, and far too smart for anyone to try and keep up the charade.

                  "G'morning to you too, Mikey," he chided with a gentle chuckle, and the boy smiled up at him sheepishly.

                  "Oops... Hullo."

                  "I'm sorry about that," William said, walking up to the workbench and ruffling his son's hair. "Can't tell you how many times I've warned him not to barge in here like this, but--"

                  "Ah, don't worry about it," Henry sighed, wiping his greasy hands on an old towel; "I was just takin' a break anyhow. Charlie's upstairs in her room," he added, gesturing for the child with a nod of his head to the stairs. "Go on and play while me and your dad decide what to do about ol' Foxy here, okay Mike?"

                  "Okay!" The boy raced up the concrete steps and through the door with another bang, and Henry could only shake his head in mirth at the kid's energy as he closed the outside exit with a much gentler click and clasp of the deadbolt lock. When he turned around, however, his brow had knitted again; he eyed William with a mixture of weariness and suspicion.

                  "It ain't really like you to drop by unannounced, Will. Is something the matter?"

                  "Right to the chase, then, yeah?" William smoothed the edge of his eyebrow, obviously uneasy. "Well. As a matter of fact... Yes. We do need to talk."

                  "Everything alright at home?" Henry went back to the table and took up his tools again, pointedly and obviously avoiding both his partner and the intended topic of conversation. In response, William pointedly walked around to the other side of the workstation to stand before him.

                  "You know very well that things are just fine in my home, Henry," he said, and but the stern snap to his voice went unacknowledged; Henry's eyes remained on the machine before him as he continued to tinker.

                  "Something wrong with the books, then?" He grimaced and made a sort of stabbing motion inside the animatronic fox, obviously starting to lose his temper, but William ignored these signs of his souring mood; the Brit even went as far as to cross his arms with a tiny huff of annoyance.

                  "As a matter of fact," he bit off tersely, "since you're in the mood to bring that up, there _is_ indeed a problem with the books: As I've mentioned before, perhaps more than once, it appears as though there is nothing in them."

                  Henry, clearly regretting that he brought it up, made a disgruntled noise somewhere between a groan, growl, and another sigh. "Will... I've done told you already, I don't care about the money."

                  "That's very fortunate, because there's little of it, and it's draining fast." There went the noise again, deeper this time and with subtle accents of _hiss_. "Henry, I know you're doing this to fulfill your _dream_ , and you're not interested in the idea of _selling out_ to anyone, but--"

                  "Will--"

                  "But it's _very difficult_ ," he pressed on past the interruption, "to follow _any_ sort of dream a'tall, if you can't buy the food and utilities required to keep its doors open!"

                  "And _giving it away_ is better?!" Henry slammed his fist down hard on the table, rattling the machine and causing William to jump back in alarm, but the brief flash of panic in the man's stormy eyes did little to curb his surging anger. "You want me to just... Put a price on everything we've worked so hard to accomplish? Throw away all the sacrifices we made?"

                  "Sacrifices?!" For the second time in two days, William felt the adrenaline rush of fright bleeding over into total fury. "If you think you can stand there and tell me a single _fucking_ thing about making _sacrifices_ , you're having a laugh, son!"

                  "I--"

                  "I don't care what you _think_ you've given," William snapped nastily. "I've done _everything_ I can to help you here! I've done the hires, I bought supplies, I balance the cheques, and I'm even willing to put on that _stupid_ rabbit costume, all just so that you can lock yourself in a workshop or play with children all day!" It wasn't until this moment that he realized the two of them had locked combative gazes, and despite the anger still boiling through his veins, he immediately looked away. "I...Henry..." He hesitated, frowning, not quite knowing how to say what he felt.

                  "If I'd known you felt so put-upon..." Henry felt more than a little bitter about his partner's outburst, but off the top of his head, he couldn't refute any of it and that made it even worse. He hadn't intended things to be that way, not really, but...

                  "It's not that," William reassured, softening his tone. "I'm sorry. I know you've put a lot of work into this; into making a career of your hobby, but..." He finally gave up on skirting the subject, knowing no way around it, and lifted his gaze again. "I consider you a great friend, Henry," he diverted. "I always will. And I've made a lot of choices that I probably shouldn't have, just to stay by your side. With an unemployed wife and three small children to support, I left a steady job on the line and guaranteed pay, all to embark on this journey with you.

                  "I wouldn't trade any of it for the world, honest," William further admitted, smiling slightly, but the corners of his mouth soon tugged back down. "I'm _glad_ to have shared your dream... But Henry... It's time now to wake up. This ship _is_ sinking, and if we keep things going at this rate, it _will_ go under. It's not just about money. It's about my family."

                  Henry narrowed his eyes, glaring, chewing his bottom lip in frustration. "Oh, so you think this is all really easy for me," he asked more than stated, seething. "Listen, I know I don't have as much as you. As big of a family as you, but I _do_ have Charlie and she's--"

                  "Just one girl," William cut in quietly, palms raised in placation against Henry's increasingly thunderous voice. "A single mouth to feed. I have four. And that's not a shot at you," he added hastily, "just the truth. I know it hasn't been easy, and that... events... have been hard; have taken their toll on you." William found himself staring down once more, avoiding the other man's stony stare and gently wringing his hands with unease. "I know you don't believe me, or if you do believe you just don't care, but I do very much love you, and it hurts me to see you fail, but --"

                  "Stop saying that."

                  The level of disgust and disdain in those three simple words struck William like a bullet, leaving him speechless and stunned; it was as though a steel fist had clamped down inside his chest, and the sensation must've been mirrored on his face: it was Henry's turn to look away.

                  "Look, I know what you are and all," the blonde half-heartedly attempted to rectify, "and that you can't just 'turn off' being a queer. But you go home to your kids and wife, make them live a total lie every single day of their lives. What the hell could something like _you_ know about love? How could you possibly understand what it is or what that word even means?"

                  "...Considering that I, _a queer_ , possess the wife and family you so desperately _wish_ to have," William eventually said, as spite struck like lightning through his hurt and sadness, "it could be said that I know a great deal more about love than _you_. But you're right, Henry, about one thing. I _do_ like men, and I _am_ attracted to you, though I admit it's rather telling, and rather quite sad, that you appear more ashamed of the notion than I am. Doesn't matter, I suppose," he surrendered, smirking forlornly. "...I know where you stand. That you're not changing your mind."

                  For one long moment, they stood in silence, each reflecting on the other's words; the overwhelming finality and stillness of it pressed upon them, threatening to smother them with its might, until William, with a motion born of haste and desperation to escape, moved briskly toward the door his son had earlier used. With jittery steps, he bounded up the stairs two at a time, and his hand shook as he reached for a knob he knew it would take all his willpower to turn. He was angry; he felt depressed, betrayed in the face of his friend's bigotry and foolhardy stubbornness, but despite these wounds inflicted upon him, his own feelings lingered just as obstinately. _How can I do it?_ he thought, frowning away the burn in his eyes. The past three years had been a rollercoaster ride of highs and lows, while Henry remained the best, if not one of the only few friends he'd ever truly had. He trusted Henry with secrets he'd kill others to keep buried, alluded to events not even his own wife knew; to throw it all away and walk out the door would be next to impossible, and time seemed to move in slow motion as he twisted the brass handle that would close this chapter of his life for good.

                  " _...don't..._ "

                  He halted, not even breathing. The meek little whisper, barely audible, somehow managed to stop him dead in his tracks. He squeezed his eyes shut, one last act of failing resolve, but couldn't stop himself from looking down over the railing... and away went every ounce of courage he'd ever known. Because there stood Henry: strong, unabashed, cripplingly confident Henry, looking up at him with sea foam eyes widened in trepidation. Appearing every bit as though he hadn't intended to say anything at all, and now didn't know what to do since his feelings had slipped through the cracks to betray him.

                  "...Don't walk out on me," Henry uttered again, breaking the pregnant pause. He immediately wanted to slap himself; to go back in time and swallow the plea before it could leave his lips, but it was too late for that now. "Please..." he shook his head dejectedly, "...You just ... _You can't_."

                  "WHY?" William demanded, knuckles going white as his grip on the handle tightened ferociously; he could even hear it rattling faintly as hot, angry tears spilled down his face.

                  "...Everyone who calls me a piece of shit and walks away leaves my life forever," the blonde muttered softly, his chest tightening with grief as he stared up at his only friend. "I'm beggin' ya, Will. Don't do this to me. _Don't make me go through it again._ "

                  "I... I just... _I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU!_ "

                  The outburst seemed to echo, bouncing from wall to wall for an eternity; it was so uncharacteristic, so completely deafening that Henry couldn't help but wince away from the impact of it as William rounded on him, practically snarling with rage. "I give you advice, and you ignore me! _I try to give you my heart, and you throw it back in my face!_ So WHY?! _WHY_ , when I've finally had enough, and I finally find the courage to _leave_ you... to walk out on this mess and leave it all behind me... _Why would you stop me?_ "

                  "I'm... just selfish, I guess," Henry attempted to joke, but the jest fell flat and he knew instantly that it was a mistake; not only did it appear to completely rekindle William's slowly-ebbing fury, but hearing it in his own voice, with his own ears, made him acutely aware of just how _true_ the admission was. His shoulders slumped as a great, guilty weight settled in his stomach, and he cast his eyes to the floor in shame.

                  "You were right," he admitted sadly, faintly shaking his head. "All along, you knew the truth and I just refused to see it or let it in. All I've thought about is myself. _My_ failures. _My_ regrets. _My_ plans and vision... Right from the start. As long as I didn't go down alone, going down didn't matter; I never once stopped to think that I was hurting anyone. Not Catherine... Not Charlie... Not you, or the ones _you_ love. The only thing I ever wanted to do was make people happy, not cause everyone to suffer. Will... I mean it. _I'm so sorr_ \--"

                  The soft pair of lips that suddenly pressed against his own wiped all coherent thought straight out of his mind, replacing it with a staticky white-noise of  shock and confusion. His gaze shot up in alarm as William's soft hand came to rest on his cheek, tilting his head and pushing him back so that he no longer had to stoop for the kiss, and when he broke their connection, the gentle touch lingered.

                  "Please stop torturing yourself, Henry," William said, finally dropping his arm; the faintest ghost of smiles broke through at the sight of the blonde's sudden, intense glowering.

                  "Do you always have to kiss folk who're in emotional distress?"

                  "Listen to me," William ordered quietly, ignoring the question. "Henry, I know that you're broken; we all are, in one way or another. Some of us shattered beyond all repair. But I _am_ still here. And I'm still your friend. I will put you back together... _but only if you are willing to let me try_."

                  He could only hope that Henry would finally understand and accept the point of how he felt; he just didn't have it in him to say the words outright and be rejected again, not after the emotional lashing that the last half-hour had subjected him to. _Are you?_ He wanted so desperately to ask, but couldn't face the answer he knew in his heart was coming; the seconds ticked by, increasing his dread, and just as expected, he felt that same heart plummeting when Henry, slowly and with great deliberation, eventually stepped away from him.

                  "...Not here," Henry reluctantly murmured, and squeezed his eyes shut as a pink tinge bled into his cheeks at the thought of what he was about to say. _To another man, even!_ "Uh... U-Upstairs. Where the, uh... th-the kids won't walk in."

                  William nearly fainted in elation, hardly believing his ears.


	3. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment we've all been waiting for.  
> (Will's so needy it kills me. xD But I'm not British. So what do I know?)

                  Engrossed and entwined, tossing and turning, midday sunrays found the two men locked hopelessly together, their bodies churning atop burgundy printed sheets; William's nimble form twisted, so determined was he to kiss and nip every inch of skin that he could reach, and Henry, doing his level best just to stay inside him, was rather fruitlessly attempting to pin the man down and maintain the cadence of his thrusting. Actually, he wasn't sure if this was just how _the gays_ tended to do things, or if Will was perhaps overly energetic in the sack, but quite despite himself, Henry found his partner's enthusiasm... _refreshing_. His wife had never seemed to want him this way, never _needed him_ so badly, and though thoughts of her depressed him, the melancholy was all but instantly washed away by overwhelming physical warmth and a sense of personal triumph at finally managing to restrain William's writhing hips.

                  "If you'd quit movin' so much..."

                  "I only wa~ _ahn_ t to feel you," he breathed, wrapping his arms around Henry's shoulders. "To know that _unf..._ I'm not _...ah!_ dreaming..."

                  "What if you are?" Henry asked, smiling against the crook of William's neck as he delighted in the full-body shudders the heat of his breath caused.

                  "Then... _unnh..._ don't wake me up," he gasped. "Just fuck me."

                  Henry found that something about those words resonated deep within him; he swallowed a lustful groan and his movements strengthened, now enraptured as he was by newfound vigor. “Say that again,” he growled, and William's grip tightened as the sudden display of hostility fogged his brain with complete and utter longing.  

                  "P-Please, Henry," he stammered, closing his eyes in a futile effort to block out some of the sensations, "F~ _haanh..._ "

                  "What's that?" Henry teased as he punctuated each thrust by trailing hot, wet kisses up the pale neck at his disposal. "I ain't quite catch what you said." He honestly wasn't sure why he felt like being so _cruel_ , but he couldn't deny that it was a thrilling thing, reducing another person to gibberish whimperings in such a way. Even if it _was_ a man.

                  " _Aahhn,_ c-come on," William panted desperately, "you _hnngk..._ know I n~ _nnhgn_... need you..."

                  "Do you?" he whispered hotly into William's ear, then nipped him in sharp retaliation as he felt the man's nails pierce his skin.  
                  " _Tell me!_ "

                  " _I need you..._ " he begged, finally choking out the distressed plea, "F-fuck me! Give me your cock, Henry... _hnnnggh~make me c--_!" Henry cut him off with a kiss, plunging his tongue through open lips and slamming their mouths roughly together; any more and he'd lose at his own game, which simply wasn't a possibility he was willing to entertain. Instead, he doubled-down in his efforts, even going as far as to slip the crooks of his arms beneath the man's slender legs and bring his knees to his ears for a better, and arguably much more _aggressive_ approach to things.

                  William's grip became vice-like as he held on for what felt like dear life, riding wave after wave of passion that not even his wildest, most explicit fantasies had predicted; he moaned openly into Henry's mouth and found, to his colossal pleasure, that every one of his lewd, guttural vibrations echoed right back to him from the opposing throat. Yet the subtle awkwardness of his forced position put pressure on his lungs, slowly robbing him of air and making his ears sing; this, combined with the tickling sensation of his own arousal drizzling slowly down his abdomen and the sound of Henry's syrupy emissions squelching about inside him with every pistoning motion was quite nearly enough on its own to overwhelm his senses and send him toppling over the edge of orgasm. However, it was one accidentally awkward, upward thrust that ultimately did the trick.

                  Henry's eyes widened in surprise as the lively body beneath him froze and began to tremble uncontrollably; at first, adrenaline flooded his veins at the thought that he'd somehow managed to hurt him, but the way William hurriedly turned his head and bit furiously upon his fist in effort to stifle a shout spoke volumes of an alternative outcome. Great gouts of sticky, searing liquid splattered against their stomachs, and though his initial reaction was that of disgust, it became quickly replaced by awe at the sheer _volume and ferocity_ with which the other man came. _Christ..._ he thought with an astounded chuckle, fully intending to pull away and allow William time to come down from the high of it, but the grip on his arm tightened, holding fast in protest.

                  "No... _nononono_ , don't stop now," he huffed, clearly wanting for air. Henry quirked an eyebrow, giving an experimental roll of his hips that made William hiss loudly through his teeth.

                  "Will, you--

                  " _Please,_ " He begged again, placing his hands on either side of Henry's face and craning his neck to kiss him hungrily with each strained gasp. "Please, Henry... You have to... Fuck me... Cum inside me... _hhnnngh~Give me everything you have... please..._ " He whined, approaching hysteria as his head buzzed with what felt like panic, but Henry hushed him, tenderly pressing their sweat-dampened foreheads together as his smooth, steady, rhythmic motions recommenced.

                  "Alright, alright..." he complied breathily, subtly gritting his teeth against his own gasping and moaning as tiny spasms massaged his cock with every drag: aftershocks, no doubt, of William's tremendous eruption and the telltale signs of another buildup. The melted into one another, Henry's consciousness swimming with bliss as he let his body's bestial instincts run free once again, and though the way their skin slapped damply with every collision was music to his ears, and the musky odor that now hung in the air was oddly tantalizing to his senses, in the back of his mind... He worried. Henry frowned as a distant thought nagged at him. _Broken beyond repair_... those words whispered back to him from some faraway place, but he just didn't have enough mental faculties about him to dwell on it and satisfy the fretting feeling.

                  Besides --

                  "Henry, I'm... _aah..!_ "

                  -- William's voice, deep and quiet, full of need and longing, completely derailed the train of thought anyway. Henry smirked faintly, already knowing what he'd tried and failed to say. "Come on then," he urged, rounding the corner to his own finish line. "Get there with me." Henry kissed him again, one final time as he aimed upward for that single specific place, firmer than the rest, like a peach pit nestled just beneath the skin. At first, he wasn't sure if he'd managed to replicate the trick, but he soon felt William shiver, practically tasted his shouts of delight, and knew he'd gotten it right; in fact, the walls gripping his dick clamped down with such force and immediacy this time, it took all he had to contain his _own_ outcries.

                  He felt paralyzed as static leapt back and forth, up and down the full length of his spine, and his arms quivered as every ounce of his strength seemed to pour out into the body of the man pinned beneath him; their lips parted in mutual gasps as he attempted to roll away before his energy gave out, but he couldn't make it, collapsing with closed eyes atop William's smooth, heaving chest.  A warm embrace was suddenly all that he knew, but it was distant, surreal; he felt as if his body was floating down a stream of tepid water, and now powerless to stop it, he let the current take him where it wished.

                  William possessively tightened his hold, wrapping Henry up in his arms as he slept. The heavy weight pressing upon him, the hot little jets of breath on his bare skin, even the way their fluids cooled, drying upon the bedding and between their bodies was sheer heaven to him. Absently, he dared to wonder what would happen next. Despite everything... was this their swan song? When those bright eyes opened to close this chapter, would there be another, bright and pristine, waiting for them to explore it? And as he stroked Henry's strong back, gently toying with the blondish head of wavy hair nestled beneath his chin, he decided that it didn't matter. _Nothing_ mattered, not if it stretched beyond this instance, this moment of lazy contentment bathed in the pinkish glow of setting sun.

                  Smiling sleepily, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy.


	4. Lore Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No smut here; just a long-winded explanation. xD

Thanks for everyone who read my ditty here; I didn’t expect it to be seen by more than one or two specific people, so that anyone bothered at all to read this was a surprise! I wish I'd done better on it, but even if I'd spent twice as much time writing it, it probably wouldn't have gotten any more good... Still! Much appreciation for the kindness (^_^)

I was asked about my lore, so okay, here’s my basic take on things:  
**Games = Information** and **Books = Motivation**.

Now comes the long answer:

In the games, William has a family – a wife, two sons, and a daughter. In the books, he’s obsessed with Henry and _his_ family. So my interpretation is that William falls in love with Henry, his feelings aren’t returned, and he ultimately sets out to destroy everything Henry _does_ love. Because he’s a spiteful psychopath. I also speculate that he’s one of those people who can’t separate the concept of sex from one of love, and that he has a tendency to get overwhelmed by his impulses. Not that he can’t control them, but that he doesn’t realize he _should_ control them, until something negative happens; it’s like he sometimes slips into being a little manic.

But that’s my take on the actual lore. As far as this little tale I wrote goes, the first time he’d have made a move on Henry would’ve been a day or two before, in response to disbelief: Henry would’ve thought it was an odd joke, that his new bestie suddenly came out (in his direction!), and Will, quite distressed by that and seeking to prove himself genuine, would’ve just gone in for a smooch and gotten roughly shoved away for his trouble. The second time, in Henry’s workshop/basement, would’ve just been him testing the waters; seeing if Henry’s resolve has been shaken at all. He’s fishing. ‘Cause, I mean… William feels how he feels, and those feelings really are heartfelt, but he still has manipulative-dick tendencies. It’s also part of why he plays the “give me what I want or I’m out” card before and after; he’s not happy about the prospect of what’ll happen if Henry doesn’t bite the bait, but drawing a line is the only way he knows how to resolve it. And hurting Henry’s feelings does cause him pain, but that’s a price he’s willing to teeter on the edge of paying if it gets him the results he wants.

And speaking of Henry, he seems to be William’s foil; one of their differences is their people-skills. In the books, Will is well-liked (or at the very least, charming); I like to think that Henry is a bit of an outcast of the “Absent-Minded Professor” variety and doesn’t really get on well with others if they don’t share his interests. The games confirm a daughter, and the books note that his wife left him; Sammy doesn’t seem to exist, so instead of her walking out in grief, I can easily see her doing it in response to Henry’s neglect and his overwhelming obsession with his hobby. He loves his daughter, but probably doesn’t spend much time with her (even though he regrets that), and I like to assume this is also connected to his preoccupation with toys and such: his own parents never spent much time with him, and without many/any friends, he spent all his empty moments entertaining himself. Stands to reason that he’d expect his own daughter to be capable of doing the same while he works, but the hours always seem to get away from him, and he knows he needs to do better; unfortunately, it’s one of those “I’ll change tomorrow” type situations, and as expected, it’s never tomorrow.

His relationship with Will is honest and refreshing; at least, it is at first. I don’t think any source ever mentions how they met, so I invented the story that they first ran into each other at a toy/doll factory. Henry worked there because it was simple, the pay was adequate enough, and he got to take home all the scrap for his projects; William worked there because he had a family to support, other odd jobs weren’t cutting it, and he figured he could quickly work his way up the ranks to something more substantial since he makes a good accountant and mechanic/technician. Both of them hated the place: Henry, because he thought his coworkers had had all the life crushed out of them by it and William because he resented feeling like his brain was atrophying day by day. Each of them found the other to be a breath of fresh air, and immediately hit it off; Henry was elated to find someone who shared his interests, and William was elated to finally meet someone who, in his eyes, wasn’t dumb as a stump. Further, Will was fascinated by the prototype animatronics, impressed that Henry had done it all himself by hand (and let’s be honest: a suit that could compress its mechanical bits and allow a person inside without damaging itself was probably just, like, the raddest thing Will had ever seen). It was like they became best friends overnight, and to top it all off, they both had kids in the same age bracket! Things couldn’t have been more perfect, until Will’s feelings bubbled up.

On the nature of feelings… I don’t think Will is gay; just _queer_ (even though they meant the same thing back then). William is bisexual. And has a thing for sunny, optimistic, blue-eyed blondes; I can’t imagine he’s had a very happy life, so he seeks traits/representations of happiness in other people. Those traits are what he likes; the person's sex doesn't much matter, and he's willing to work with what he's given.

Actually, I like to imagine that his and Henry’s appearances are tied to their homelands: William (from dreary, rainy, overcast London) has black hair, pallid skin, and surreal, stormy eyes; Henry (from bright, sunny, fresh-air Georgetown) has earth-blonde hair, tannish skin, and deep, clear eyes. William’s wife (Rebecca) is also blonde and blue-eyed in my imagination, though it’s more of an orangey, strawberry blonde and her eyes are true-blue; being upper-class, she’s got an ivory complexion. By contrast, Henry’s ex (Catherine) would’ve been a dark-eyed, crop-cut brunette with no hesitation on bailing out of a relationship she felt to be unfulfilling; in fact, I doubt she would’ve even really been the “stay-at-home, nurturing mother” type, which is why she left her baby daughter behind. A younger, more awkward Henry, distracted by her beauty, progressive sexuality, and no-nonsense nature, would’ve been too wrapped up to notice how bad for him she was until their marriage fell apart.

Post-confession, Henry isn’t really sure what to make of Will; he’s wary when William shows up to his house, because he thinks the whole situation is odd and wants to avoid it. He’s a little grossed out by the thought of it all, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to be abandoned again. His fear of solitude, of being tossed back into the lonely pit he used to know, makes him panic; Henry agrees to have sex with him out of desperation alone, and while he definitely attempts to hurry through and get it out of the way, I’m reminded of a thing a wise (or horny, at the very least) man once told me:

“Listen. Love. Most men, you don’t understand. We’d fuck a mailbox if it felt good and it’s been a long enough time since we shot one off; paper cuts be damned.”

It may be an exaggeration, but for Henry, who hasn’t had sex in about 4-5 years (because being a single parent with no friends definitely cramps your style on the dating scene), it applies. Will is hot for him; that energy appeals to him. While Henry’s head thinks it’s icky, his body is just glad someone else is finally touching it. But also, his lacking social skills aren’t an indicator that he’s an idiot; Henry’s actually very smart and knows that Will’s brain is wired… differently. He can sense that there’s something like a frantic animal caged in the back of it, and every time Will loses his cool (be it in anger or desire or otherwise), it scares him a little, making him faintly worried and nervous. Henry’s not the type to ask about it outright, though, and considering he has a little temper trouble of his own when he’s frustrated or uneasy, he tends to just let these moments pass without further agitating them.

A brief note about Henry’s strength and confidence that Will has come to expect, since we’re here: It takes a pretty convicted and passionate person to sell someone on a business model completely geared around building an arcade and amusement park inside a pizza shack and filling it with what amounts to a bunch of robotic clowns. lol Henry is crazy, but earnest, and completely unapologetic about that combination.

So there you have it; that’s my headcanon. Hope it all makes sense to anyone who cares! Here are some other thoughts and things I asked myself that didn't fit in up there:

              What about the dicks?! This is a smutty tale, after all. Give me more descriptors!

Nothing special about Will’s; just a basic uncircumcised cock with an upward curve and faintly tapered head on it. His erections probably aren't _too_ rigid, but they angle close to his belly and he's definitely a grower instead of a shower. Henry seems suited for the kind of cock you can put a coat hanger on: I imagine it points pretty straight out (which wouldn't do anyone's prostate many favors without deliberate effort), and that the head has a rougher, more pronounced ridge and glans since he's circumcised (like most Americans). A half-shower, his cock doesn't increase in size much when it gets hard, but it plumps a bit and gets very stiff. (This is probably part of why he's annoyed when Will won't be still: his technique is rusty, he's still uncomfortable with his partner being male, and his boner doesn't shift with Will's body the way Will seems to anticipate it will. He settles down, and they get to business.) And one thing about the ooze: My husband is a massive slime geyser and this is the only life I know; don't even get me started on the cumshots. William completely embodies this tendency; Henry also does, but to a lesser degree.

              What's up with the lack of condoms?

Why would either of them have those? Henry's not seeing anyone and Will has three children, which are pretty stellar birth control on their own. Besides, William took a shower after jacking it, and is fairly meticulous by nature; the thought he may have a disease, even the dreaded AIDS, didn't cross Henry's mind at all.

              Lube?

Hand lotion. Henry works with machines all the time and would probably have a lot just hanging around; that sort of stuff is murder on the skin, and nobody likes sore, cracked fingers.

              _Is_ there a future for them?

Not a sexual one, that's for sure. Henry feels too odd/awkward about it, and actually, this experience sort of pulls them apart a bit. He's a fan of avoidance maneuvers when something makes him uncomfortable. Besides, once the restaurant chain takes off, they'll both be too busy to do much hanging out in the same places. Their kids stay _very_ close, though!

              Why doesn't Henry want to sell out?

He hates what giant corporations do to people; from his time in the factory, he took away the impression that they break their workers' spirits. And one of the main reasons he encouraged Will to quit with him was a dissatisfaction with making someone else's millions for them with his own two hands. He's just not interested in becoming that sort of person atop the ladder, and refuses to budge until Will explains how they can accept support/financing from a larger player in the industry without selling their integrity or losing control of what's rightfully theirs.

              What's Will's wife going to think of this tryst? Will he even tell her?

He absolutely will; she's the one who initially encouraged him to confess his feelings rather than let them kill him inside. He'd never even dream of hiding it from her; in fact, he's probably happy enough to go home and put the moves on her, too! As for how she feels... She's a little wistful; she remembers when she rocked his world that way, when it was just the two of them, when their relationship was still fresh and sparkly new. She's also a little scared; she's happy for him, and her heart knows he wouldn't ever run off, but she still can't help but wonder, just from time to time, if Henry will steal her husband away. Maybe she's also a little jealous and a little sad; she can't compete with Henry, because it's just not the same game. (At least... these things are how _I_ felt in her shoes.) Above it all, though, Will and their kids are more important to her than life itself, and she loves them very much; no matter what happens, she always will.

              Will Will want a mile now that he's been given an inch (or 8)?

Nope! He's horny and lovestruck, not stupid; he barely landed his plane the first time, and knows he's not getting another chance at that. Besides, his imagination is very vivid, and now he's got a concrete memory to fall back on when he needs it. He likes to consider himself  more of a top anyway, so this is probably for the best.

              Smoking? Drinking? _GAY BARS_?! And other stuff.

Will smokes when he's stressed, but doesn't drink often and stays _right the fuck_ _out_ of those bars; he's attempted to suppress that aspect of his desire, not encourage it. It's caused him too much pain and trouble in the past (which is why he came/fled to America in the first place). Henry doesn't smoke often, drinks casually (whiskey/bourbon man forever), and avoids social scenes in general. Will's wife is a social drinker and will sometimes puff on a cigarette if he leaves it burning; she gets chatty with the neighbors or at the supermarket. Henry's ex smoked and drank constantly, and hated being stuck in the house.

              Is Rebecca just a house wife? How'd they even meet, if she's an upper-class gal?

She doesn't work, but when she was younger, she schooled to become a dancer; her family legacy sits perched atop a history of old money and prestige. That wealth would've more than bought her spot at one of many lovely dance academies... if she hadn't snuck away from her chaperone, ditched her flight, and missed her string of auditions upon meeting William in the airport. Could hardly blame her; it was love at first sight! So scandalous! (Naturally, they immediately and aggressively disinherited her once they found out she intended to stick with him against their will.) When the business starts to tank due to the locals losing interest, she offers to sell off some of her jewelry and trinkets to keep it afloat for a few months longer, but William won't let her; he feels she's given up too much already, and would never be able to forgive himself if she did that sort of thing for him again.

              My timeline! 

Michael Afton - born in 1968  
Elizabeth Afton - born in 1971  
Samuel Afton - born in 1973 (I wanted to reuse the name Sammy)  
Charlotte Brookshaw - born in 1967

William Afton - born 1949  
Rebecca Vanderbilt - born 1950  
Henry Brookshaw - born 1945  
Catherine Layne - born 1945

Factory Job - Henry and Will worked simultaneously from 1971-1973  
Fredbear Diner - opens 1974  
Fazbear Ent. - era begins 1976

The rest is history! ...Minus all the murder. Because sex. (Talk about "For Want of a Nail...")

              Bonus Note: Favorite A/U

I really love to imagine William as a gender-flipped Willow. Still British, but a sassy, pessimistic young woman with a mullet and dark makeup who doesn't give a shit about the standard rules and conventions of her male-dominated world. This stubbornness and foolhardy nature get her into some obvious trouble, but things (probably) work out in the end. She marries her husband to play as his beard (and stay in America!); he really _is_ completely homosexual, but very kind to her and their kids to make up for it, and she knows what she's getting into right from the start. Her vows to stay faithful despite their core incompatibility don't stop her from having the hots for Henry, and hey-ho...

I have some other stuff pinging around in my head, but I'm not sure how soon I'll get to write it. I don't use the internet very often, but when the urge strikes, I'll be back for those of you share my hard-on for complex sentences and excessive modifiers. ;)

  
Thanks again for stopping by!  
***Hearts and Hugs***


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